


Trashed

by kuzibah



Category: Being Human (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuzibah/pseuds/kuzibah
Summary: Set mid-episode 1. George’s feelings on the destruction of property.





	Trashed

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in 2009, but I hope it's new to you.

It was the worst thing the werewolf had done. Not the worst thing it *could* have done. No one was hurt, thank God (and he did thank God, every day, that the werewolf hadn’t hurt anyone.) But nearly everything on the ground floor of the house, their home, was ruined beyond repair. 

He didn’t remember waking up in the wreckage, didn’t remember how he got upstairs. Hell, Mitchell might have carried him up, for all he knew. All he did know was he came to in his bed, and by the time he’d recovered enough to throw some clothes on and make his way down, Mitchell and Annie had already taken ten bags of rubbish to the curb. 

Rubbish which used to be their possessions.

He kept telling himself they were only things, and things they’d only had a few months, at that. But he’d come to this house with almost nothing but a bin liner full of secondhand clothes, and he’d liked the things he’d found. The French and German paperback novels from the used bookstore near the University. The cushions and lap blanket for the sofa, among the first things they’d purchased when they’d moved in. The vase made of milky green glass he’d got for 50p from a street vendor that had glowed a beautiful turquoise when the afternoon sun slanted through it.

Well, all gone now.

Mitchell and Annie had been surprisingly understanding, more than George would have been were the situation reversed, if he were being honest, and that had only added to the guilt. 

If he’d been Mitchell and had lost all of those albums… well, he’d probably still be whinging about it a month from now. But the vampire had only sighed stoically, and made plans to re-amass his collection in the local recycled music shops. 

And Annie, she was more wrapped up in the house than either of the two boys, a part of it, almost. And she’d been watching the werewolf do it, at least for awhile. It must have broken her heart.

Now he sat in a near empty room, on a couch without cushions, with no books to read or stereo to play. Annie drifted in from the kitchen, a fresh cup of tea cradled in her hands. 

“I thought you’d like some,” she said, smiling in that fond way of hers.

George blinked, managed to croak out a thanks and take the tea from her. She patted him affectionately on the arm, then turned back to the kitchen. He was glad she didn’t see his eyes fill with tears, the shame he hid behind the teacup.

George made a vow to himself as he watched her, the fragrant steam rising into his face: He would never complain about her tea again.


End file.
